Strange Comfort
by Mattycollns13
Summary: Sequel to Everyday Superhero. First story of these that is from Dean's perspective. Natalya turns on Becky, and Dean knows this isn't like the others. He doesn't know if he can cheer her up like he had before. Then he gets a crazy idea.


Dean hadn't been this angry too often in his life. He could count on one hand the times he had even been close to this angry. He had been furious when the Shield had broken up, betrayed by that scum Seth Rollins. He had been angered to the point of violence when Ric Flair had kissed Becky and cost her the title at the Royal Rumble, and now he wanted to put a certain Canadian through some tacks and it wasn't Chris Jericho this time.

He was in his area of residency for the pay per view tonight, and that meant he was gonna be able to sleep in his own bed tonight. He and Becky had gotten here earlier in the day and unpacked a lot of their stuff at his house. She always stayed with him when they were in town now. She actually had a drawer at his house for an emergency clothes stash. They'd definitely be enjoying a few beers and movies after the pay per view on his couch instead of the usual cramped hotel room. Dean couldn't wait.

He had been preparing for his Money in the Bank Ladder Match as Becky and Nattie had gotten ready and gone over their game plan next to him. After Becky had come to Natalya's aid a few weeks ago in her battle against Charlotte and Dana Brooke, she had been around Dean and Becky pretty often. Dean was almost used to her, though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit jealous at having to share his friend. But he was a big boy and could deal with it.

Becky and Natalya's history went way back, and Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't buzzing with joy when Natalya was around with Becky telling him funny stories about their younger days. How could he not be happy? His best friend's smile was absolutely shining as she was spending time with a friend she had not been able to hang out with properly in many years.

Right before the two left the dressing room, Dean had ruffled Becky's hair and fist bumped Natalya and told them to kick ass. They had smiled and wished him luck if they didn't get back in time to see him off for his match. Becky had bounced back into the room a moment later to press a kiss to his cheek for luck, as they had made a custom between them, and rushed back out.

Dean had been ready early, and usually would already be in gorilla talking with Sami, but he wanted to watch Becky's match so he hung around with the monitor. He watched the match closely, he and Becky didn't pull shit with each other and critiqued each other in their matches without pulling any punches, but he saw Becky get the upper hand quickly. Then it all came crashing down.

He saw the minute Becky's head connected with Natalya's that Becky had been knocked silly. He could read her body language well enough after so many months of them traveling and rooming together. And he sighed when Natalya was pinned for the three count. He cursed and ran a hand through his hair. They should have won that, they hadn't wrestled together in years and they needed to get some more reps in together. Dean looked back up to the television and watched Becky hug Natalya, knowing her she was apologizing cause she blamed everything on herself, but as she moved forward, Dean saw something flash in Nattie's eyes. The same thing he watched flash in Seth's eyes every time he replayed the scene of his betrayal the following months after it had happened. He called out, even though it was only a monitor and he knew Becky couldn't hear him, for Becky about the same time as Natalya's forearm connected with the back of her head.

Dean watched helplessly as a woman she had trusted beat down his best friend. This wasn't some girl she had known for a few months or a few years. This was ten years of friendship. Something that had stood the test of time. Something that had been unshakeable and even Dean, with all his mistrust of people, thought that surely something that lasted that long would not be susceptible to betrayal like Becky had gone through. He watched Natalya leave Becky in a lump on the canvas and walk up the ramp. He almost punched the nearest wall when he saw Becky's face. She looked so heartbroken and confused. She needed him. She needed him now.

Dean bolted out of the room and shoved faceless people aside to get to gorilla position. He came in and knew that he would be fined if he just ran out there; he had to wait for her to come back through the curtains. As he arrived he saw the others there, some were looking sadly at the monitor, pity in their eyes. It pissed him off all the more; she didn't need their pity. But soon enough Natalya came through the curtain, she made straight for the exit, but Dean held an arm out stopping her.

"Move, Ambrose," she said, not really looking at him.

"You're going to pay for that very badly. You better hope I get to you first. She won't be as cuddly," he said in a nonchalant tone. He felt great satisfaction when she gulped.

"I said move."

Dean moved his arm, but not before calling out at her back, "See you around, Neidhart."

His eyes went back to the curtain as the referee helped Becky through. He pushed the referee off of her quickly and scooped her up. He helped her limp to their dressing room, ignoring her prodding that she could walk just fine on her own. He sat her down on the bench in the dressing room and went to get a towel for her. He noticed that, luckily, Natalya's stuff had disappeared from their room. No reminders that she had once been in here would be best for everyone right now.

He heard her sniffle in the other room, and fought back a growl. He got the towel a little wet for her and sat down next to her. He let her grab the towel and wash some of the sweat and grime from her face. She finally opened her mouth and turned to him.

"Dean, your match is next. You should go." Dean furrowed his brow before remembering his ladder match.

"Are you sure?" Becky gave him a glare.

"Don't you dare miss this chance for me. I've d-dealt with this before. I'll be okay." She tried to say it with confidence but he could tell from her little stutter that this wasn't like the others.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but then a knock sounded on the door. Dean went and opened it and saw Tom Phillips. He gave the man a little glare, and Tom gave Dean an apologetic smile.

"Dean, sorry they want me to ask Becky what happened. I can come back a bit later though, it's for the Facebook page."

Before Dean could turn him down Becky was at his side, with a calm look on her face. This scared the shit out of Dean who had never seen Becky put on a fake mask in front of him before. He knew this was much worse than anything Becky had tackled before. He could feel the anger rising again, but his thoughts were interrupted.

"Let's just do it now Tom, Dean has a match to get to anyway. I'll be alright." She gave Dean the fakest smile he'd ever seen. Not the usual Becky Lynch smile, where it was all teeth and scrunched up nose, that Dean had gotten so used to over the months and months of traveling together. It was small and tight around her lips, but Dean knew not to comment on it, especially not in front of Tom Phillips. He grabbed her hand and squeezed before taking off towards gorilla again for the ladder match. Time to use this anger for something productive.

Dean sprinted through the curtain and ignored all the other wrestlers that were wishing him congratulations for the briefcase he held in his hand. He needed to get back to a certain orange haired lass that could probably really use a friend right now. He arrived back at their locker room and knocked before entering. He heard a small 'come in' before he opened the door and was jumped on by Becky.

He returned the rushed hug as well as he could with the briefcase still in his hands. She pulled back and smiled up at him. It was closer to her true smile, but still didn't reach her eyes.

"I knew you could do it, Dean. You were amazing out there. You okay?"

He gave her a lazy smile, "I'm all good, Irish. Back hurts like a bitch, but that's every day."

He made his way over to the bench with her and sat down. She sat down next to him and he let her pick up his briefcase and examine it. As she was doing this he noticed she had left her phone on the bench on the opposite side of him. He gave it a glance and realized she had left it open to her twitter. He rolled his eyes, that girl and social media, but his eyes examined closer and it was her own feed. All the recent posts had been photos of… shit.

"Becky," she looks over to see him holding her phone.

"I didn't mean to look… I was gonna post something about getting revenge, but after the interview…" She trailed off and looked away.

Dean slid over closer and put his arm around her. Usually she would make a show of being grossed out at how sweaty he was, but she didn't even put up a fight and sank into him.

"Is it me, Dean? Do I drive everyone away?" she spoke softly and into his chest, so it was tough to make out with the show still blaring from the monitor.

"No, I'm still here ain't I, Irish? And I ain't going nowhere." He tried to smooth her curls out with his hand as he held her to his chest.

"Then why? Why does it always end like this? I didn't do anything…"

Dean's heart was fucking breaking, cause he knew this cut deep. Deeper than anything he'd experienced in this business. He didn't know how to help her. That wouldn't stop him from trying.

"Becky, look," he pulled her head up and made her look at him, only to see something that stopped him in his tracks. She had tear tracks on her face. Her lip was quivering and she was looking down, not willing to meet his gaze. She had never cried in front of him before. He was pretty sure she had done so around him, but she would always leave the room, or do it when his back was turned. During that weekend after Roadblock he was sure she had at least once, but he'd never seen it before. It stunned him worse than any wrestling move had in his match. Becky was the strongest person he knew, but even she couldn't be strong all the time. She had been there for him when he couldn't be and he would always be there to return the favor.

When he couldn't continue, she did, "I don't even know what to do anymore. I can't win the championship, here or back in NXT, and I can't keep a friend cause they all turn on me." She let a tear slide down her cheek in front of him, "When is that gonna happen to us, Dean."

Dean clenched his jaw; he wished he were better at this sort of thing. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "It's never gonna happen, Irish. You are stuck with me for life now. I'll retire young and live in your attic, just like we always planned." He smiled a little when she let out a little hiccup of a laugh. His eyes trailed back over to the monitor. It showed Seth and Roman duking it out, a match he should really be paying attention to, but his friend needed him and he was going to make her be okay at any cost.

He saw her sad expression, then looked to the match, then down at his new briefcase down on the floor. He gently took Becky off his shoulder and stood up. He reached down to grab it, his eyes connecting with her startled ones. He held the briefcase to his chest and gave her what he hoped was an inspiring look.

"Just watch that screen, Irish. I'm gonna show you what someone who has been overlooked, underestimated, and betrayed can get." He sprinted out the door without giving Becky a chance to say anything.

He had done it. He was WWE World Heavyweight Champion. He couldn't stop staring at the damn belt. He knew it was weird, but he really wanted to sleep with this tonight. This is what he had been working his whole career for. This is what he had spilled blood for. He had instantly felt a burden on his shoulders lift when he had held it up for the first time.

He came through the curtain to some applause, but he didn't get a chance to see who they were from when he saw orange and was armful of an Irish spitfire. She had jumped on him, his legs easily bearing her weight, and wrapped her legs around him. This was the tightest hug he'd ever gotten from her and while it felt like his ribs and chest were about to cave in, he returned the hug.

He staggered forward and she finally let herself down off of him. He saw the dried tear tracks still on her face, but she was smiling a true smile for the first time since her match and he felt another burden lift off his shoulders somewhat. He had won the title for himself, but also because he knew she believed in him, just as much as he believed in her. And if this wasn't a way to show that, he didn't know what would.

"Oh my god, Dean!" She looked more excited then he was.

He smiled at her, knowing he would still have a lot of work to do tonight to make her feel like herself again after what Natalya did, but he knows this was a good start. Her favorite movies and some alcohol would help, plus being able to talk at his house would hopefully sort the rest out.

He took the championship belt and put it over her shoulder. She looked down at it amazed then back up at him. He ruffles her orange hair and points to the belt.

"That's what someone like us can do, Irish. And soon it'll be you."

The look he got in return for his little speech was the best thing he got all night. Championship included.


End file.
